The library at Sundermoor had three floors, and all of them smelled like old paper and lemon polish.
I went there because the dining hall had too many eyes in it. Also because Tilda had started looking at me like I was a house fire she could see coming.
The top floor was almost empty. Lamps, long tables, and a lot of dust doing its thing.
Then I saw him. Back corner, black jacket, a wall of books, and six empty chairs sitting around him like a fence.
Here is what I knew about Cormac. Dragon. Dangerous. Hurt someone, years ago.
Here is what I also knew. Yesterday he moved his notebook one inch so it wasn't crowding me, and I had been thinking about that inch all day.
And everyone in that building had already decided what I was worth, and none of them had gotten it right yet. So maybe we had that in common.
So I walked over. Because of course I did.
My boots were loud on the wood. He didn't look up until my shadow landed on his page.
Cormac: The dining hall is downstairs.
Nell: I know. I've been. It's very downstairs.
Cormac: Then why are you here?
His shoulders were up around his ears. Not angry. Braced. Like he was waiting for the part where I said something cruel and got it over with.
Nell: Can I sit here?
That was it. That was my whole speech.
Cormac: No one sits there.
Nell: Now one does.
He looked at me for a long time then. Not a glare. More like I was a math problem that had walked up and pulled out a chair.
Cormac: You don't know me.
Nell: I know. That's kind of the point of sitting.
Two tables over, a girl whispered the word pending and her friend laughed into his sleeve, and neither of them was even being quiet about it.
Cormac heard. His jaw went tight, and he sat very still, waiting for me to get up and be sorry somewhere else.
I didn't get up. I sat down and pulled out my notebook like this was the most normal thing in the world.
Nell: See. Nothing terrible happened.
Cormac: It's been four seconds.
Nell: Give it time. I'm extremely irritating.
He made a huffing sound that was almost a laugh. Then he pulled his books over, slow and careful, so I had room.
I read the spine of the book on top. Kinds and Classifications.
It was open to a page full of names with dark pencil lines through them. The marks were pressed hard, like he'd been mad at the paper.
Nell: You're looking up kinds?
Cormac: I'm reading.
Nell: About kinds.
Cormac: About a lot of things.
For a while neither of us said anything. Two people doing homework in a corner. Very normal. Extremely normal.
The lamp above us flickered once, twice, then settled and stayed on.
Cormac: You should ask what people say about this table.
Nell: I already got the full report. It was long and boring and had a lot of swear words in it.
Then his mouth actually did it. A real smile, small and crooked and surprised, like his own face had caught him off guard.
I've made people laugh before. This felt different. This felt like finding a light switch in a dark house.
Cormac: You're the first person in two years who sat down and asked nicely.
Nell: I'm extremely polite. It's my whole thing.
The lamp didn't flicker again. So did I.